Review: FRP play is impressive blend of laughter, pathos

Neil Simon's "Laughter on the 23rd Floor" is on stage at Flat Rock Playhouse through April 19.

Flat Rock Playhouse photo

By KATIE WINKLERTimes-News Correspondent

Published: Friday, April 4, 2014 at 12:10 p.m.

Last Modified: Friday, April 4, 2014 at 12:10 p.m.

Denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance — funny to begin a review of Neil Simon’s comedy, “Laughter on the 23rd Floor,” by listing the stages of grief, but without laughter, how could we deal with the trauma of living?

Although no one dies in Flat Rock Playhouse’s first main stage production of its “Season of Laughter and Love,” there is an earnestness here that is refreshing. Make me laugh, and it’s great fun, but make me cry, too, and you’ve created something special — that is what director Michael Kostroff, as well as the cast and crew, has done.

The plot is plucked straight from the playwright’s life. It’s 1953 and Lucas, the Neil Simon-like narrator, is just beginning his career as one of the writers for the Max Prince Show, obviously based on Sid Caesar’s “Your Show of Shows.”

Lucas introduces us to his zany fellow writers, all based on the real writers with whom Simon worked, including Val, the Russian émigré; Kenny, the dry-witted Californian; Brian, the hot-headed Irishman; the sardonic Milt; the tough yet feminine Carol; the hypochondriac Ira; and of course, the indomitable leader, Max Prince.

As each of these characters is introduced, we are reminded of the signs of the times — it’s the McCarthy era, and the entertainment industry is being hit hard, especially Max’s show, which is considered “too intellectual” for television.

When Carol comes in with the news that McCarthy has accused Gen. George Marshall, a decorated World War II veteran, of being a communist, the reaction of the others is at first denial. Then the anger sets in as Max punches walls and writers yell, trying to one-up each other with classic one-liners.

As the show’s existence is more and more threatened, the bargaining begins, with writers making bets and Max making plans to save the writers’ jobs.

The second act begins and continues in a somber mood as depression settles over the group, especially Max, who shuffles around, lost and confused. With acceptance comes the realization that relationships are more important than politics and even careers. Fame comes and goes but love and laughter on the 23rd floor remain.

Interesting that the director and two of the cast members have writing credits, including Nick Santa-Maria as Max Prince, who has written a book about comedians and also has stand-up experience. This background enhances his performance, especially in one of my favorite scenes when the writers are previewing a sketch for the show.

The other actor with writing credits, Bob Ader, is also convincing in his role as Val, the lead writer of the team — his multi-layered character is one minute calm, the other frenzied.

Typical of Neil Simon plays, “Laughter” is an ensemble piece, allowing all of the actors to have their special moments. FRP favorite Scott Treadway, as Kenny, launches many a zinger, but also has a scene where he gets to flex his considerable dramatic muscle. Gary Littman as Ira and Michael MacCauley as Brian bring their banter to a hilarious boil numerous times.

Amy Toporek, as Carol, claims her moment in an utterly feminine way, during a crying fit when in an advanced stage of pregnancy. James Beaman as Milt shines trying to hide his blindingly white suit when he finds out his boss holds that particular color of garment in abhorrence.

Young Ben Rosenbach, as the rookie, sneaks a great one-liner in with a triumphant grin. Even the secretary, would-be writer Helen, played by Adrienne Griffiths, gets a chance in the spotlight as she searches hilariously for something pithy to say perched among a bunch of hard-nosed comics.

Although each gets to stand out, the show’s strength lies in togetherness, when the jokes skip from actor to actor like a smooth stone on a placid lake, and ripples of laughter dispel the sadness in our lives, including the loss in February of Sid Caesar, one great funnyman who continues to teach us about laughter and love.

Katie Winkler is a member of the Dramatists Guild of America and the North Carolina Writers Network. A long-time resident of Henderson County, she is active in the area as a teacher, writer, actor and director.

<p>Denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance — funny to begin a review of Neil Simon's comedy, “Laughter on the 23rd Floor,” by listing the stages of grief, but without laughter, how could we deal with the trauma of living? </p><p>Although no one dies in Flat Rock Playhouse's first main stage production of its “Season of Laughter and Love,” there is an earnestness here that is refreshing. Make me laugh, and it's great fun, but make me cry, too, and you've created something special — that is what director Michael Kostroff, as well as the cast and crew, has done. </p><p>The plot is plucked straight from the playwright's life. It's 1953 and Lucas, the Neil Simon-like narrator, is just beginning his career as one of the writers for the Max Prince Show, obviously based on Sid Caesar's “Your Show of Shows.” </p><p>Lucas introduces us to his zany fellow writers, all based on the real writers with whom Simon worked, including Val, the Russian émigré; Kenny, the dry-witted Californian; Brian, the hot-headed Irishman; the sardonic Milt; the tough yet feminine Carol; the hypochondriac Ira; and of course, the indomitable leader, Max Prince. </p><p>As each of these characters is introduced, we are reminded of the signs of the times — it's the McCarthy era, and the entertainment industry is being hit hard, especially Max's show, which is considered “too intellectual” for television. </p><p>When Carol comes in with the news that McCarthy has accused Gen. George Marshall, a decorated World War II veteran, of being a communist, the reaction of the others is at first denial. Then the anger sets in as Max punches walls and writers yell, trying to one-up each other with classic one-liners. </p><p>As the show's existence is more and more threatened, the bargaining begins, with writers making bets and Max making plans to save the writers' jobs. </p><p>The second act begins and continues in a somber mood as depression settles over the group, especially Max, who shuffles around, lost and confused. With acceptance comes the realization that relationships are more important than politics and even careers. Fame comes and goes but love and laughter on the 23rd floor remain. </p><p>Interesting that the director and two of the cast members have writing credits, including Nick Santa-Maria as Max Prince, who has written a book about comedians and also has stand-up experience. This background enhances his performance, especially in one of my favorite scenes when the writers are previewing a sketch for the show. </p><p>The other actor with writing credits, Bob Ader, is also convincing in his role as Val, the lead writer of the team — his multi-layered character is one minute calm, the other frenzied. </p><p>Typical of Neil Simon plays, “Laughter” is an ensemble piece, allowing all of the actors to have their special moments. FRP favorite Scott Treadway, as Kenny, launches many a zinger, but also has a scene where he gets to flex his considerable dramatic muscle. Gary Littman as Ira and Michael MacCauley as Brian bring their banter to a hilarious boil numerous times. </p><p>Amy Toporek, as Carol, claims her moment in an utterly feminine way, during a crying fit when in an advanced stage of pregnancy. James Beaman as Milt shines trying to hide his blindingly white suit when he finds out his boss holds that particular color of garment in abhorrence. </p><p>Young Ben Rosenbach, as the rookie, sneaks a great one-liner in with a triumphant grin. Even the secretary, would-be writer Helen, played by Adrienne Griffiths, gets a chance in the spotlight as she searches hilariously for something pithy to say perched among a bunch of hard-nosed comics. </p><p>Although each gets to stand out, the show's strength lies in togetherness, when the jokes skip from actor to actor like a smooth stone on a placid lake, and ripples of laughter dispel the sadness in our lives, including the loss in February of Sid Caesar, one great funnyman who continues to teach us about laughter and love.</p><p><b>Katie Winkler is a member of the Dramatists Guild of America and the North Carolina Writers Network. A long-time resident of Henderson County, she is active in the area as a teacher, writer, actor and director.</p>